The Power Of Friendship
by Ourliazo
Summary: Really, for the safety of everyone, the Avengers are on Stark-watching duty. This is why they can't have nice things.
1. Un-fucking-believable

Title: Un-fucking-believable

Summary: Tony decides that the best way to help Bruce's control over the Other Guy would be to cross the line as many times as he can, in as many directions as he can. Steve does not approve, but then again, neither does anyone else.

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* * *

Tony started small, which should have been the first warning that he was up to no good. Steve knows that the man likes to push, and sure, some situations call for it, but the way in which Tony goes about testing boundaries is akin to diving off a plane to test air resistance.

It's extravagant and dangerous and only by some miracle does it turn out okay in the end. Usually by Tony building himself a pair of wings on the way down or revealing a parachute that he was attached to the whole time.

No, wait. Tony would just summon his suit and call it _training, Cap, it's just like your morning runs except I don't get sweaty and you couldn't hope to match my speed_.

…Yeah, it started slow.

Doesn't make it any less dangerous, though.

* * *

 _Day 1 -_ _3:26pm_

Steve watches in bemused horror as Tony shuffles across the shaggy carpet for the fourth lap around the living room, socks scuffing nicely. The super soldier wonders if he should stop Tony before the man hurts himself but it doesn't look hazardous apart from the trip factor.

Then again, it is Tony.

"Do you want to sit down?" Steve asks, twisting his neck awkwardly as Tony passes behind him.

"If I wanted to sit, Cap, I would sit." Tony waves him off but trips and staggers, flailing to keep his balance. He straightens quickly and glances around as if there was even the slightest possibility that everyone wasn't staring at him.

Clint just tries to subtly give Steve and Bruce wide-eyed looks. By the way the archer wiggles his eyebrows, Steve is supposed to tackle Tony, Bruce will open the balcony doors and Clint will throw the billionaire off his own tower.

"What are you staring at, cat piss?" Tony smirks as he starts up with the shuffling again.

Is Steve seeing things or is Tony's hair starting to stand up?

"It's Katniss, you Robo-cop rip-off. If you're going to reference, do it right or go home," Clint fires back with a grin.

"This is my home, you freeloader," Tony retorts. "The giant A on the side of it is just a pity present."

Clint slowly turns to look at Tony, eyes exaggeratedly wide and voice in an understanding tone as if some great epiphany struck him. "You think your funny, don't you?"

"What I _think_ is universally acknowledged as at least a decade ahead of any possible contender, and is studied as the gospel truth in my fields of work." Tony shoots a smirk at Clint. "Just let that sink in for a bit, _archer_."

Clint screws up his face before it blanks completely. "Don't taunt the secret agent, Stark."

"Hey, calm down. He didn't mean it like that." Steve isn't even sure who he's talking to at this point, the words just come automatically whenever Tony annoys someone.

"Embarrassment, denial, anger," Tony mutters, glancing sideways at Clint when he passes behind Bruce. "You know, Steve, I would believe you a lot more if he didn't look like I caught him trying to suck his own dick."

Bruce chokes.

"That entire sentence makes me want to slap somebody," Clint's admits, looking considering as he tracks Tony's shuffling form around the room.

"Clint-"

"It's fine." Tony holds up a hand and cuts off Steve. "I know when I'm unwanted. I was just leaving anyway."

Bruce glances over when the noise of socks on carpet speeds up, and get treated to the terrifying sight of a Tony shuffling full speed towards him like an out of control stream train.

"What are-" is as far as Bruce gets before Tony reaches out and pokes him. "Hurk-!"

Bruce feels his body jerk in reaction to the electricity singing though him. By the time he recovers, Tony has already sprinted out of the room, cackling with maniacal laughter.

"So that's why he put in the carpet," Clint murmurs.

"Don't," Steve says, not even bothering to look to know that Clint has kicked off his shoes and started shuffling his feet. "Sorry, Bruce. I should have been more comprehensive when I banned his taser-pen."

"It's fine, Steve," Bruce huffs in laughter. "I'm more shocked that he was able to focus long enough to gather that much electricity."

That should have been the second warning.

* * *

 _Day 12 -_ _8:41pm_

Bruce gestures sharply. "The isolation itself would be difficult." He catches himself and crosses his arms but continues with his rapid speech, unwilling to be cut off yet again by Tony. "That particular strain isn't a catalyst, it binds itself to the target and becomes engulfed when –"

Tony scoffs. "Not with the added protein-"

"Thank you, Tony!" Bruce barks out when he's interrupted.

He's vaguely aware that the pause lasts for a brief second but the silence seems like a physical weight. The struggle to keep the Other Guy suppressed is vicious and tiring, only adding to his headache.

"You're welcome, Bruce." The words are perfectly polite, but quiet as they slide off Tony's tongue, carrying a mocking edge as if the man is barely holding himself back from laughter.

Tony swaggers around the bench, tapping half-heartedly at the holograms before leaning a hip against the bench near Bruce. He watches the man clean his glasses roughly, catching a glimpse of green around the temples, and lets out a sigh.

"Look, the fact is; I'm right," Tony calmly dismisses, an hour of arguing filled with solid scientific theory out the window, because that's how logic works.

"Tony-" is as far as Bruce gets before the sheer frustration blocks his throat. He wipes sweaty palms on his pants and takes a deep breath, focusing on anything but Tony's ridiculous hypothesis.

He has no idea why he even bothers. Trying to argue with Tony Stark is like trying to topple a century old oak by slapping it and wishing really hard. He just can't stop, though – the evidence Tony showed is just plausible enough to be an option but the overall thesis is outrageous to the point of stupidity.

"That's a very shallow excuse," is what Bruce settles on.

"I'm a shallow man," comes the retort.

Jarvis beeps quietly, trying to play mediator as the holograms display further excerpts of science journals.

"You think I care?" Bruce snaps out.

"You think I want you to?" The grin on Tony's lips is too sharp, echoed by Bruce's own grip on the bench that craters the metal before he gets a hold of his strength.

Bruce is the first to look away.

Tony picks up a tablet idly and starts playing with it when it turns on automatically. He can only last so long, though.

"Whatever. I'm not one for the squishy sciences, and even I know you're wrong." Tony smirks at the newest high score in Angry Birds and glances up at Bruce through his eyelashes. "There's no need to argue for the sake for arguing-"

Bruce's head snaps to Tony as he snarls, smacking the man's tablet out of his hands. It clatters to the ground and Tony jerks back in shock, hearing a ripping sound a split second later as Bruce's shirt falls to the floor in tatters. Bruce staggers back, suddenly gasping heavily and very, very green.

…

"Code green."

Steve's head snaps up at the perfectly calm tone of the AI, dropping his sketchpad onto the table and lurching to his feet as Thor skids around the corner with a manic grin on his face, already swinging his hammer.

Where did Steve put that shield, again?

…

Hulk whips his head around, searching for enemies but calms quickly when he finds himself in the workshop with an outraged Tony staring at him.

Hulk huffs when it's clear that Bruce is still angry and sits heavily, shaking the tools that weren't held down and making Tony wobble, when it becomes evident he won't be turning back with the scientist still pacing in the back of his mind.

"Hey, not okay! You can't just run when you know I'm right, Bruce!" Tony snatches up the tablet, the only thing making sure it wasn't broken is the fact that it was Bruce's reinforce tablet.

Completely forgetting that he had been playing a game instead of looking at evidence to support his theory, Tony waves the tablet in Hulk's face, having to get on his toes and stretch up to reach eye height with Bruce's alter-ego. "Look at this, Hulk, look at my genius that Bruce insists is wrong."

Hulk turns away from the flailing, gaze bored as he examines the lab. Bruce cheers him on. Humans are weird.

"Are you seriously ignoring me right now?" Tony makes a frustrated sound, throwing the tablet onto the bench and climbing onto Hulk's leg, having to brace himself on a green shoulder to not fall off the uneven terrain. Tony glares up into bored, glazed over eyes. It was high school all over again. "Just because you're bigger than me-"

Hulk simply huffs in amusement, the gust of air blowing back Tony's hair and making the man squint, startled out of his rant.

Unfortunately for Tony, Hulk then decides to have a nap and flops down. Having lost the stability of Hulk's shoulder that he was leaning against, and competing with the shifting thigh underneath him, Tony falls with a short, startled cry.

The breath is knocked out of him and Tony gets intimate experience as to how uncomfortable muscles are to lie on. He groans and hauls himself up to a kneeling position, stilling at an honest to God snore from Hulk.

"Did you just fall asleep?" he asks in shock. "Are you shitting me, Hulk?"

The glass doors swoosh open, Thor and Steve barrelling through, and the God has to catch himself on the edge of a bench to slow himself down.

"Tony!" Steve cries, skidding to a stop and gaping at the scene.

Tony gestures sharply at the Hulk who he's still kneeling on. "Who even falls asleep that fast?"

Thor points at himself and opens his mouth to speak.

"Don't even talk, Thor," Tony interrupts in frustration.

* * *

 _Day 20 -_ _9:29am_

The car swerves in the recording, identified immediately as Tony's because of how expensive it looks. The car jerks to the side, missing oncoming traffic by a hair's width, and comes under control surprising quickly considering the speed it's going.

The sleek curves of the chrome coloured car bulge and strain as the vehicle pulls over to the break down lane, smoothly coming to a stop despite the rocking and windows shattering. The roof bends outwards and rips off, the convertible factor helping.

Hulk leaps out, huffing and snarling as he looks around. Eventually he glances down at an annoyed looking Tony who gestures at the passenger seat and speaks rapidly, the camera not detailed enough when zoomed in that far to pick up his lips moving, but the way Tony moves his hands make it obvious.

Hulk seems to roll his eyes at whatever Tony is saying and stomps over, gingerly pulling out the passenger seat to leave it on the ground so he could get into the car, flopping over the back seats with one leg stuffed into the space where the passenger seat used to be, the other hanging out of the car.

Tony drives off, out of camera range.

The recording pauses and Steve turns very slowly to the grimacing Bruce and highly amused Tony, both of the scientists on the couch beside the super soldier.

"In the middle of the highway?" Steve sighs. "Really, guys?"

"I never noticed the guy in the blue Toyota was texting. That was very dangerous of him." Tony shakes his head in disappointment.

"Excuse me?" Bruce turns to the genius.

"I should have side-swiped that asshole," Tony adds on.

"You are absolutely incredible," Steve says in a monotone voice. "Not in the fun way, either."

"Well, really, it was Bruce's fault," Tony defends, turning to his fellow scientist. "It's been nice knowing you, but from the fact that Steve even has the recording, Fast and the Furious will most likely run you over with his ship soon."

"Stark!" Fury barks out, appearing in a window over the footage, taking up the entire TV screen.

"God, I missed your heavenly voice," Tony greets the director. "But you really need to speak up, you're so quiet."

"You are the stupidest mother fucker-" Fury visibly reigns himself in, disappearing off screen for a brief moment and coming back with a controlled expression. "You know what I'm going to do, Stark? I'm going to get your file and write 'lower your expectations' on it. Right across the front. In red pen."

"I think someone's jealous."

"Jesus, Stark, shut up," Natasha interrupts in the background of the camera.

"There's an emotion there," Fury admits. "But it's not jealously."

"Is it lust?" is as far as Tony gets before Steve covers his mouth with a hand.

"I am so very sorry," Steve says to Fury before turning to Tony. "Bad Tony. Don't make me get Pepper."

Muffled protests meet his threat but Steve just places another hand at the back of Tony's neck and the man is effectively trapped in the super soldier's grip from the ridiculously unfair strength that the blond holds.

"I'm sorry, Fury," Bruce speaks up, ignoring the flailing Tony who isn't even trying that hard to get away from Steve. "I thought I had better control over the Other Guy but I've… shifted twice now and even though I don't hurt anyone I'm beginning to think that I should leave-"

"Your punishment," Fury begins, cutting over Bruce. "Is that you are on Stark duty. Indefinitely."

Everyone does their best to ignore Natasha breaking down in uncontrollable laughter.

"I- I've shifted in heavily populated areas-" Bruce tries to reason.

"And Stark is still more of a threat than you," Fury dismisses.

"To be fair, Tony is more of a threat than _you_ ," Bruce fires back.

Fury pauses, staring down Bruce. "The Hulk has done nothing but pout. Give it an enemy, it becomes a savage monster. Give it a friend, and it has no idea what to do with itself." Fury leans back into his chair. "Make no mistake, you are a threat and we will still be keeping a close eye on you, but you've made progress in training it. Keep it up."

"With all due respect, you don't _train_ the Other Guy-" Bruce stutters to a halt when the window closes, signifying Fury hanging up. He sighs, dragging a hand across his face.

Steve doesn't say anything, watching Tony closely ever since he felt the smile pressing against his palm.

* * *

 _Day 34 -_ _12:16pm_

Tony and Bruce are arguing, standing close enough that if one of them swung at the other Steve won't make it, which of course is making the blonde twitchy. He can only hope that Thor would step in, but the God is distracted with breaking the sandwich maker.

There is no hope for the two spies, either. Clint is perched on the fridge and wiggling his eyebrows at Natasha, forming a plan of attack that she is very pointedly ignoring as she eats her lunch at the table.

Steve considers the situation again. The two scientists are standing in front of the kitchen bench, so Steve doesn't have an obstacle in his way. It would still be better if the two moved further away from the kitchen with Clint and Thor, and came closer to the table where Steve and Natasha are sitting.

Steve wishes he could at least see Bruce's face to tell if he's close to 'Hulking out' but throughout the argument Tony has been pacing up and down across the room and settled facing the rest of the Avengers so Bruce's back is to them.

Unfortunately, Steve doesn't have telekinesis. (Although apparently that's a thing these days with mutants.) He also has no idea about what the two are arguing over. Tony and Bruce are supposedly using English but Steve swears that for a period of about five minutes they slipped into Latin.

"I have hard evidence," Tony contests. "The experiments were done and the results were observed, plain and simple. How hard is it to understand that your method is old school – and how long will it take to sink in? I have a meeting to get to."

Bruce cries out in wordless frustration, running his hand through his hair. "Your theory is so wrong it physically hurts to listen." He gestures vaguely at the tablets on the kitchen bench, abandoned next to sandwiches when they started the argument, forcing Tony to step back to avoid being hit. "I've seen the bogus 'research' you've given me as evidence. It might not be your field but you've done enough investigation that you should know better."

Bruce is walking forward now, making Tony back up. Steve tenses, ready to act.

"The data is unreliable and invalid; all of the methods were done by seven year olds who were told to write a story, because it certainly reads like it, and they don't even have controls - don't even get me started on the bias. You're a genius, Tony, think." Bruce is gasping slightly from saying everything without taking a breath.

Tony, from where he has been backed into the kitchen bench, has his arms crossed. Bruce only just seems to realise what he's been doing and goes to step away, but blinks at how relaxed Tony looks, the man leaning back on the bench with a small smirk.

"Your eyes have been green for ten minutes now," Tony informs him, practically dripping smugness.

Bruce stills, right along with everyone else.

"You're right, Brucie, I am a genius." Tony passes by with a strut, off to a meeting he's already half an hour late to.

Bruce blinks, feeling the steady presence in the back of his head, and registers that the Other Guy hasn't tried once to break out despite the anger that definitely should have broken the levee. He then thinks of all the other situations in which Tony had pushed for Bruce to shift.

The four weeks of arguing was just a ploy for conditioning - desensitising.

"I've already told Fury; you can't train the Other Guy," Bruce contests to Tony's back.

"Of course not," Tony responds. "I was training you."

Bruce chokes out a laugh, only just registering that this was an _answer_. "I love you."

"Love you more, Brucie bae," Tony calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the lift.

"Let's not make this a competition," Clint speaks up. "I get really competitive."

Natasha perseveres with her lunch, intent on ignoring the situation, while Thor tries to look casual holding two separate sides of the sandwich maker that should definitely not be separate.

"Un-fucking-believable, all of you," Steve sighs into his hands.

"Language."


	2. Hey, Steve?

Title: Hey, Steve?

Summary: It's not like Tony is scared of spiders or anything, but holy shit that fucker is enormous.

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* * *

"Hey, Steve? Could you come here?" Tony calls quietly, almost sheepishly, from the elevator that just reached the common floor.

Steve glances up from his sketch book and frowns in concern at Tony's half panicked and half worried look. "Of course." He quickly jumps up from the couch, completely forgetting to put down his book and makes his way to the elevator, wondering if he should get his shield.

The elevator music seems out of place.

"What's wrong, Tony?" Steve asks when the other Avenger doesn't seem to want to volunteer any information.

Tony shakes his head and fast walks across the floor and down a hallway when the elevator opens. They end up in front of Tony's room.

"What's wrong?" Steve questions again.

"So...uhm..." Tony seems to brace himself. "There's a spider under my bed."

Steve rocks back on his heels, but can't help himself. "Really?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

Tony gives him a bitch face.

"Alright, I'm going," Steve sniggers as he opens the door. He turns the sketch book over in his hands and decides that it'll do nicely. He kneels with the intent to scoop up the spider with the book and let it go outside.

Tony bites his lip as Steve pauses and then eases out from under the bed before standing and retreating to where Tony is leaning against the door.

"It's..." Steve half raises a hand to comb his hair back but the book is in that one and he awkwardly settles with his arms at his sides instead. "It's… ah... pretty big."

"Yeah. Yeah it is, Steve."

They both just take a minute to stare at the bed.

"We didn't have spiders like that in my day," Steve tries to make a joke but falls short.

"They're not exactly all the rage in the twenty-first century either," Tony deadpans, because that thing is not a joke.

A long, hairy leg pokes out from under the bed, followed slowly by more knife sharp legs and the rounded body. Tony subtly shifts behind Steve's broad shoulders when he catches sight of the fangs.

"It's bigger than Mjolnir," Thor breathes out in shock.

Steve and Tony jerk a little bit and turn to see Thor staring at the spider, clutching the handle of his hammer as if in preparation.

"Your Midgardian animals are strange," the blonde God admits.

The spider scuttles sideways a bit, stops, and starts edging towards them. All three take a step back.

"How did it even get up this high?" Tony mumbles, tracking the arachnid closely.

"What are you guys doing - _holy shit that is one big ass mother fucker_!" Clint reaches back automatically for arrows that aren't there. "It's bigger than Tony."

Tony whirls around with a glare. "There is no need for that, Hawkass-"

"Okay, let's just calm down," Steve holds up his hands, ready to separate the two.

"It is moving again." Thor's observation catches the attention of the others.

The spider is slowly raising itself on its back legs, front legs out and fangs dripping with poison.

"Nope." Tony spins around and walks out. "Fuck that shit, I'm gassing my room," he declares, seconded by Clint who is close on his heels.

Thor and Steve look at each other before mutually agreeing and shutting the door on their way out.

* * *

A large pot thunks onto the table, wrapped with three layers of duct tape. The boys don't meet her eye when Natasha stares them down. Well, all but Tony.

"Nothing you can do will convince me that I wasn't justified," Tony says, completely unashamed at having started an emergency evacuation to be able to kill the spider quicker. "And every person that saw the thing told me I made the right choice to get people out of danger."

Clint, Thor and Steve nod along like bobble head dolls.

"It's barely a meter in diameter," Natasha scoffs.

"I don't think you hear yourself when talk, because otherwise that would have terrified you," Clint argues.

"Alright, I'll kill it then," she grumbles, lifting the pot.

"Careful!" Steve calls out but very noticeably doesn't offer to help.

When Natasha's gone they let out a breath.

"It's okay now, Natasha is gone," Tony calls out.

The Hulk peeks around the corner.


	3. Recruitment

Title: Recruitment

Summary: The recruitment process was going smoothly, right up until the person being interviewed throws an insult at Tony.

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* * *

"It would be good to have back up in the form of your specialty," Steve says with a smile. "The team members that could are all in the field so their help in such an area is limited."

"Thank you," she practically breathed out, smiling brightly at America's sweet heart.

"What was your hardest run?" Fury goes straight for it, no time to waste on the interview that Coulson should be doing. Calling in vacation time was a low blow.

"I have to say that it's hard to pick just one because of many factors like time and ...uh... IRL pressures, but my hardest would have to be when I hacked the Pentagon." The smug smirk was encouraging as the woman straightened up in her seat.

The confidence was a plus for her, Fury admitted, but a backing track of laughter in his head distracted him when she said 'hack'. The Director glanced over to the very man that instilled that reaction in him and raises an eyebrow.

The genius finally glances up from his phone, and nods, not showing anything apart from that media grin. "So what level did you get to?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean by that," she begins sceptically.

"With the whole Pentagon thing," Tony gestures vaguely with the hand not holding the phone, clearly barely paying attention.

She hesitates but eventually straightens in her seat. "Mr. Stark, can I ask why you're here? I understand Mr. Fury and Mr. Rodgers, but you?" Her voice sloped into a cross between sceptical and condescending.

"Stark is our expert in all thing technological," Steve explains, wary of her instantly bad attitude when faced with Tony.

"Is there a problem?" Fury asks, not one for quelling his displeasure.

"It's just that he hasn't exactly been in the circles the best tend to walk." She shrugs off her passive aggressive comment. "You get all types in the top and we tend to find each other, from the poorest street urchin to someone's kindly grandma. You can imagine my hesitancy when you title him as good."

She smiles in attempt to soften the blow, but just like that Fury's estimation of her plummets. She was sensible and could handle a team, the preliminary round assuring that she would make the cut for regular agent, field or otherwise.

What this interview tested was accessibility into the Avengers' backup detail, calling on skill with technology and how they fared under pressure. But no matter how well she scored, Fury did not want delusional conspiracy theorists.

Tony rolls his eyes at the dig she made, having focused back on his phone as soon as she started speaking.

"Well, ma'am. I don't know about your experience but Tony- I mean, Stark is definitely something," Steve tries, unable to say more due to his complete and utter incomprehension with the more detailed facets of the subject.

Her smile becomes patronising but Steve -the poor, kind soul- just smiles back.

"Wonderful," Tony drawls, intent on his phone, tracing his way through links and shoddy cover ups. "Now we're all friends. If we're done smiling, though, I would appreciate an answer to my question."

Steve frowns at Tony, echoed by the woman. If she was blond haired and blued eyed as well as fifty kilos more, she'd be Steve Rodgers gender swapped. Tony smirks, skimming the incredibly long text on his screen.

"I've forgotten already," she said airily before commanding, "Repeat."

Tony takes the loss, only because the win will be so much sweeter. "What level did you get to?"

She blinks.

"The security for a highly-targeted body such as the Pentagon has levels," Tony lectures, slanting a look at the woman over his phone. "Which would be clear to the person finding a way in, because the difficulty clearly increases with every level. It's how they assess cyber threats so they don't waste time on amateurs."

'Like you' went unsaid.

Fury doesn't give any indication, but he's getting irritated at how she isn't understanding. SHEILD itself has such a defence mechanism, where the levels are so SHEILD could note who tried and how far they reached for either recruitment or elimination.

She hesitates but proclaims, "I got all the way through." She's contemplating how truthful Tony is or if it's just a trap to make her doubt herself, like the last test she did having the fourteen trick questions. "How would you know about it?"

Tony shrugs, already focused back on the glass rectangle he uses as a phone, eyes darting over the text. Oh, is that a past job for Hydra? And my, that track record is morally ambiguous. "I designed the template system."

Fury reaches over and snatches the phone out of Tony's hand, ignoring the outraged cry and twisting away from the grabbing hands that dart after the stolen phone.

Steve sighs but gathers Tony back into his seat.

Fury frowns at the information, scrolling up and skim reading down. He glances up after a moment and simply declares, "You're dismissed."

Her face shows no sign of what she's thinking but her clenched hands give her away. "Are you going to listen to him just because he funds your operations?" she begins in an incredulous voice.

"Did I stutter?" Fury asks rhetorically.

"He is nepotism at its finest," she cries. "Call in an expert, I don't care, but taking advice from someone who only thinks he's good is –"

"Did I stutter!?" Fury barks out again, far louder than necessary.

Her lips pull into a tight line but she stands, scooping up her backpack and leaving with a stomp to her walk.

"You two are dismissed as well, she was the last interview." Fury waves at them as if to shoo them from sight.

"C'mon, Tony, that's your quota for today." Steve stands, tucks his chair back in and pulls out Tony's, dragging the man back with it.

"Don't quota my insults, you ridiculously Byronic character," Tony reprimands, still in his chair with arms crossed and pointedly staring at Fury. "It offends me that you think you can keep track."

"Leave!" orders Fury with a glare, somehow more intimidating with half the stare power.

"This is stealing, and my rights are being violated." Tony jabs a finger at Fury. "Quick, Cap! Use patriotism."

A long-suffering sigh is Steve's response.

"I have a gun-" Fury pauses and corrects himself. "No. I have multiple guns, on my person, at this very moment. Keep pushing me, Stark, and I'll shove my foot up your ass," Fury promises.

"I… was there a middle part there?" Tony glances back to Steve who blinks in confusion too and turns to Fury again. "Because I think I missed the segue from guns to feet."

"Maybe you should fuck off."

"Maybe you should stop taking my things," Tony suggests easily.

"You're not getting it back, Stark," Fury sates, looking up at Steve and gesturing to Tony.

"You say that about a lot of my stuff, but have you actually had the chance to show it to your R&D team?" Tony taunts, slapping away Steve's hands as the man tries to pull him up.

"Then there's no issue in me keeping it if it'll only get right back to you."

"It's the principal of the thing-" Tony hisses as he's grabbed and pulled over a broad shoulder. "Capsicle, you half sucked mango, this is assault!"

"Half sucked mango…?" Steve echoes in confusion, finding himself offended despite the oddness of the insult.

Tony ignores the super soldier and instead glares at Fury. "You may have won this round, Captain Fury, but you will not keep my treasure, you scurvy ridden dog!"

* * *

.

A/N: Tony installs all of his things with self-destruct sequences because SHELID keeps 'confiscating' his things.


	4. Bad Influence

Title: Bad Influence

Summary: They really should have known not to play something like poker with Tony around.

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* * *

"Two pairs," Clint grinned, spreading his cards out so everyone could see.

Natasha retracted her pair and Thor scoffed, throwing down his hand with a smug smirk.

"That's a high card. Well done." Somehow Steve didn't sound sarcastic and honestly seemed happy for the hammer wielding man.

"Thor, that means you lose against Clint," Bruce spoke up as the devil's advocate, once more picking up the cheat sheet of poker hierarchy and passing it over the table.

For someone who had no concept of what cards even were half an hour ago, Thor was doing pretty well, especially with all of the game changes they went through.

"I knew that," came the reply after a moment of Thor studying the hastily scribbled on napkin. "I was testing you."

"Of course you were," Bruce reassured him, collecting his and Steve's cards to shuffle the folded hands back into the deck.

"Dare I ask, Tony?" Natasha sighed at the shit eating grin on the billionaire's face.

"Oh come on," Clint groaned.

"I warned you guys, but did you listen? No." Rhodey tipped his glass at them in accusation.

Tony took his sweet time laying out his cards one by one. "That's a pair of kings and three lovely fives."

"Awesome." Clint forced a smile. "I give up. That's this game ruined for me as well. Should have picked monopoly; at least then I knew I would hate you all by the end."

"You really need to stop cheating, Tony," Steve berated.

"Who's cheating?" cried an aghast Tony. "It's automatic, and anyway, counting cards isn't cheating."

"Then why are you banned from Vegas?" Rhodey goaded.

Bruce ducked his head to hide a smile as he collected the rest of the cards.

"You're banned from _all_ of Vegas?" Natasha sounded sceptical. It was nice that she still had faith in Tony. "Not just the casinos?"

Tony leaned back in his chair and took up a reminiscing tone. "It all started on a sunny November morning-"

"No one actually cares," Clint cut in as he gathered his hand that Bruce dealt out, before he promptly discarded all of it.

Thor took up his cards and his grin widened in an exceedingly obvious tell. Then again, with Thor it could mean he has absolutely nothing just as easily as it could mean he has a straight flush. "Five gold bars!" he cried and slammed a fist into the table. The impact shook the glasses and cards that weren't held down.

"Yeah, well, six gold bars," Clint threw out in challenge.

Steve sighed, reminding himself again that he shouldn't let Clint explain how Earth worked to Thor. "How many times do I have to say we're not betting?"

"You suck all the fun out of things," Tony accused.

"Yeah, you're such a fun sucker," chimed in Bruce in a monotone voice.

"Please don't encourage him," Natasha said and gave the scientist a disappointed look.

"I bet you wouldn't hesitate to suck the fun out of anything," Tony continued in an over the top suggestive tone as he ignored Rhodey's muffled laughter.

"You wouldn't even have to be paid, you'd do it for free," Clint said as he hopped into the bandwagon. He wiggled his eyebrows for extra flair.

"You'd suck the fun out of things on every street corner if you could." Tony jabbed a finger at Steve. "Wouldn't you, you fun sucker?"

Steve just ran a hand down his face.

"Friend Steve, perhaps you should not suck on fun things," Thor offered up as a suggestion.

The room went dead silent.

Steve stared at a mockingly confused Thor with an utterly blank face. Tony took a deep breath, if a bit too loud and ragged.

Bruce managed to hide his out of control grin behind the farce of having wiped his mouth with a napkin, Rhodey having copied the scientist with his drink. Clint on the other hand had to bite down hard on his fist. Natasha had perfect control of course, but if her nails dug into her thigh, no one would have said anything anyway.

Another deep breath and the genius dropped his cards to the table and stood. "My job here is done." Tony stopped for a brief moment to pat Thor on the head, before he retreated to the safety of Pepper in the other room.

"Mother fucker had a royal flush!" was the outraged cry from Clint that followed him.


	5. Peaceful Drives

Title: Peaceful Drives

Summary: Happy has been Tony's bodyguard for a long time. It's… well, it's been interesting.

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* * *

The wind screams as the car shoots down the road, taking the winding turns of the cliff at a very unsafe speed. The top of the flashy red car is down and every breath brings in sea air while the warm sun beats down on the two occupants.

It's a lovely day to be chased by three black cars with darkly tinted windows. Really, what makes it even better is that the people in the cars are not at all afraid to use guns. It ties the whole experience together, ten out of ten, would totally recommend.

"I am not happy," Happy says, his grip tight on the wheel as he struggles to slump further down in the seat so a bullet doesn't take off his head.

"Am I allowed to make a seven dwarves reference?" Tony jokes, partly muffled since he's sitting in the passenger side but he's stretched over the middle console to reach the hidden compartment under the driver's dashboard.

"No, Tony, that was old before I even met you," Happy grumbles, spinning the wheel to make a hard-right turn.

A sharp curse comes from Tony as he slides backwards into his seat again. "I'm working here!" he snaps, trying to crawl back over Happy's lap and into his previous position.

"I just mean this is uncomfortable," Happy admits.

"Being gunned down in a convertible?" Tony scoffs. "Yeah, I'm not loving this either." He shoves at Happy's knee with a shoulder. "Spread your legs more."

"I meant you, fiddling with wires under the steering wheel," Happy explains, flinching when a bullet ricochets off the driver's side mirror.

"What is that supposed to mean - oh, as if I would give you road head," Tony mutters, wriggling further under to grab another wire, pretty much flopped over one of Happy's thighs with his torso mostly in between the man's legs.

Happy splutters because that is not what he meant. "Well, at least we're in agreement, because I wouldn't want a blow job from you either."

Tony huffs and finally grabs the white wire, shoving it into a port under the dashboard with the three other white cables. A screen lights up and he types out the instruction and the code, getting a green light for using NOS. The car is entirely built by Tony, of course he has nitrous oxide installed.

The engine roars like it's screaming a war cry and the car lurches forward even faster than before, going well into the two hundreds for kilometres per hour.

Happy makes a terrified sound but keeps control as the black cars fall behind, unable to keep up with the red convertible. The people give up on shooting as well, thankfully, and soon they disappear into a vague speck in the rear-view mirror.

However, there is a significant problem, which is that Happy doesn't know how to drift around corners. He's going to have to learn quickly though because going this fast means turning normally is a very bad idea.

Tony pushes off against the floor of the car and pops up inside the circle of Happy's arms. He uses the bodyguard's legs as a resting pace for his elbows and turns, completely ignoring that he's obstructing view of the road.

"I'm kind of trying to not die here," Happy says quickly, leaning around Tony's head, hesitant about straightening up when there are still guns involved.

Tony just peers at Happy with narrowed eyes. "I would give excellent head."

"Tony-"

"No, no," the billionaire interrupts, his pride at stake now. "I would be so amazing you'd never be completely satisfied by anyone else. You would beg me for more."

"Are you actually fucking with me?" Happy blurts out in exasperation.

"You've just lost the chance of a life time, buddy," Tony says, ducking down and awkwardly getting back into his seat again. "Because I'm definitely not sucking you off now."

Happy lets out a sharp breath. "If I take my hands off the wheel to strangle you, we would die. That is the only reason you aren't asphyxiating right now."

"I don't want to know your kinks, Happy."


End file.
